Elven Commitment
by Warlady
Summary: A short love story between the Prince of Mirkwood and a mysterious servant
1. Default Chapter

Title: Elven commitment  
  
Author: Warlady  
  
Fandom: Tolkien  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: All the characters from The Lord of the Ring, belongs to Tolkien Estates  
  
Special Warnings: This fanfiction has some of the characteristics of a Mary Sue, if you dislike original female characters in Tolkien fandom, don't read it.  
  
Beta: Alex ( Modifications in beta made by Mayetra)  
  
Timeline: During the events from The Fellowship of the Ring.  
  
Archive: The Tortured Scribes' group board.  
  
Spoilers: None.  
  
Author's Note: If you find some inconsistencies about the canon, they are due to suit the plot properly. Don't flame me for this, please, I have seen worst sins. This is meant to be a one shot story, but if I get reviews asking for more, I would probably add some more chapters.  
  
Elven commitment  
  
Imladris was the most beautiful vision Prince Legolas had seen in a long time. Since Sauron had corrupted his land, Legolas, as well as the other Elves from Greenwood, had helplessly watched how their enchanted home was covered by evil shadows, and was prowled by dark creatures. Even after the Istari Council had exiled the main danger at hand, the woods would never be the same.  
  
Oh, Imladris, the home of Lord Elrond, how he loved the sight of the clear water falls, the sensation of peace that lingered there, the beautiful songs and poetry. In this lovely place, he could relax. He had no need to keep his senses alert, nor worry about the invisible dangers lurking in the shadows. He could watch the stars at night, needless of a companion to guard his safety.  
  
The imminent war against Mordor seemed so far away from here. Yet, he knew the menace was real. But even that couldn't fade the joy that overwhelmed his soul.  
  
It was the day after Elrond's Council. He had joined the Fellowship. He could have declined, as Prince of Mirkwood and only heir. But since Aragorn, the real King of Gondor, offered his sword to protect the Ring Bearer, how could he possible deny his help in such an important mission?  
  
He passed the entire afternoon lying on his bed, looking carefully at the intricate designs of carved vines on the ceiling. Even the chambers at Imladris were better than his own at Mirkwood; this was more cozy and ventilated. A soft knock on the wooden door caught his attention.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"My Lord, would you want to wash and have your hair braided before dinner?" a quiet female voice called from the corridor, in front of his chamber. That was Delia, one of the handmaids of the house; she had been the one designated to attend him.  
  
Legolas found that he had never been served in a finer way. She was silent, obedient and dedicated to her task. He could barely remember two or three of his servants back home that were as diligent as her, though they were not half as discreet as she was.  
  
Legolas got off the bed and answered the door.  
  
The she-Elf stood before him, her eyes low in respect, she was carrying a porcelain pitcher of scented water and a pile of fresh clothes. She waited in silence.  
  
"Come in, Delia, put the clothes on the bed, I'll be with you in a moment" He said, taking the decanter from her and moving to the bathroom. He had taken a bath in the morning, though it was a custom with Elves to clean themselves as well as possible before attending dinner. He undressed slowly and took a sponge from the bathtub. He cleaned his body thoroughly and then dried with a towel. He walked to the middle of the chamber, the towel wrapped around his waist.  
  
Delia was standing near the window, pretending she was looking outside. It was a polite way used by handmaids to avoid the sight of their masters' nudity.  
  
Legolas smiled, he could tell that the girl was breathing hard, even though it was quite silent He dressed swiftly and walked to her. He placed his palm on her shoulder and she turned around, pinning her eyes to the ground again.  
  
"Would the Lord want me to comb his hair?" she asked, no hint of the previous uneasiness in her voice, though there was an unmistakable pink shade on her cheeks.  
  
"Yes, that will please me very much, Delia." He walked towards the big mirror on the wall and sat on a cushioned chair in front of it.  
  
She drew a comb from the bedside table drawer, then carefully unbraided the golden silk of his hair and started to brush it slowly.  
  
Legolas looked at his reflection on the polished metal. He was beautiful beyond comparison, or so it was what he had overheard from the ladies of his home, although he could not find any difference between himself and other Elves. Yes, there was subtle variants, as the color of the hair and eyes, facial features; but he had never seen an Elf that wasn't 'beautiful beyond comparison'. Of course, there were some exceptions. He looked up to Delia's reflection. She had her eyes fixed on his hair, he could feel how her little fingers ran over his scalp, helping to disentangle the knots that could have formed through the day. It was a pleasant feeling.  
  
"Delia, stop a second and let me see your reflection in the mirror."  
  
The obedient maid interrupted her labor. She hesitated, but finally lifted her chin and let her Lord see her face.  
  
Delia was one of the exceptions to the rule. She was obviously Elven in constitution, but not in height. Her hair had not the characteristic silky quality, and had an undefined color that was not brown, nor red, neither blond, but an odd mixture. Her breasts were small, as her waist, but her hips were too wide by Elven standards. Another remarkable difference was her voice, it owned an uncommon quality among she-Elves, it was deep, calm, not like a male voice though, yet it was not the acute and musical voice of a female of his race. Her face, well, she was not especially beautiful; she was so similar to a female of the Edain.  
  
"Thank you, Delia, you can continue." He commanded.  
  
She lowered her eyes again and continued with her task. She carefully braided his hair, slowly and precisely.  
  
"Can I ask you something personal?" He had been curious about her appearance since the minute she was introduced to him.  
  
"Yes, my Lord, ask what you want."  
  
"Who are your parents?"  
  
She froze, moved her hands away from his head and blushed. She was shaking, not daring to speak.  
  
"Delia?"  
  
She fidgeted, then replaced her hands on his head and restarted braiding. She breathed in deeply. "My mother was one of Lady Celebrían' s maids of company."  
  
"And your father?"  
  
Delia hesitated again, and then said, "When Lady Celebrían was abducted by Orcs, my mother was taken away as well. They were rescued, but my mother was not the same, so I have been told, she lost her voice, and her mind. When the healers examined her, they discovered she was with child. She died giving birth to me, and she took the secret of my father's identity to the grave."  
  
Legolas' eyes widened in shock. So, Delia could be actually the daughter of an Orc. Well, she was not the average Elf, but she could not be mistaken for an Orc.  
  
"Sorry, my Lord, I did not intend to startle you." Her voice was trembling, so were her hands, and he could see the glittering tears that were being held back.  
  
Legolas stood from his seat and turned to look at her. He moved his hands to her face, took it between his palms, and lifted it. He felt so guilty when her brown eyes, overflowing with tears, looked at him with a silent plea.  
  
"Do not tell Lord Elrond about this, I did not want to tell you, but I could not lie since you asked it directly. Please, my Lord, forgive me I.I will comb your hair again and will braid it swiftly, nobody has to know I did not accomplish my duty, please." The tears were streaming copiously from her eyes, and she wriggled her hands together nervously.  
  
Legolas felt horrible. Yes, she was a servant, and he was a prince, but before the eyes of the Valar, all Elves were equal.  
  
"No, Delia, you forgive me. I had no right to ask, it is just you do not look like the other Elves. I had no idea of." His words were not enough, or so he felt about them.  
  
"Do not worry, my Lord, I am sure of your good intentions, curiosity is one of the Elves' most valuable virtues, as well as wisdom and beauty. I know what I am, and I should not take offense if somebody reminds me about it. It is true and painful, but I had no right to fail in my duties just because of my selfishness and pitiful pride." She was not crying anymore when she said these words.  
  
Legolas could see how her eyes turned cold and emotionless, some with her face. In that instant, he felt a strange sensation in his heart, it was like he had seen such a look in another pair of eyes, a long time ago. He took his hands away from her and nodded.  
  
"Do not worry, Delia, I will not tell anyone about this little conversation. Please forgive me for my careless question, you are as Elven to me as any other Elf from this house. Could you resume your job and finish with my hair?"  
  
"As you wish, my Lord, and thank you for your generosity with this humble servant."  
  
The dinner was as pleasant as always. Though Legolas was not paying real attention to his food. He was thinking deeply about Delia. The realization of the possibility of her being half Orc really stunned him at the beginning. But this fact had suddenly lost importance to him; actually, he was now looking at her under another kind of light, while she attended the guests, along with the other maids of the house. He realized the uncommon grace that she possessed.  
  
While the others looked pale and perfect, like they were made from the same mold, she stood out, with the rare quality of her hair and face and the neat movements of her limbs. Her arms, long and delicate, her small hands, the way her hips swayed under the common fabric of her servant dress; he watched her enthralled, how was it possible she could be anything but an Elf?  
  
"Would you like more wine, my Lord?"  
  
The questioning voice of the blond she-Elf that stood at his side, holding a silver amphora startled him.  
  
"No, thank you, some water would be just fine."  
  
"As you wish, my Lord." The maid walked away. She addressed Delia, who was carrying the water decanter and the latter nodded.  
  
Legolas looked at her coming towards him. His heart started to thump in his ears, to his utter surprise; it had been hundreds of years since he felt such a surge of intense and uneasy feelings near someone.  
  
"Would you like some water, my Lord?" She asked. Even though the other maid had informed her of his wish, she was instructed to ask, in case he had changed his mind.  
  
"Yes, please, Delia." He answered, slowly, trying to modulate his voice, if it betrayed him he would die of shame. To his joy, his words flowed smooth and neat. But then it happened. When she leant forward, to pour the water in his goblet, he fixed his eyes on the elegant curve of her neck, the way the skin tensed over the muscles and tendons, the line of soft skin that showed from the discrete cleavage of her dress. He felt his face flushing, while a shiver ran up his spine. His leg moved up involuntary in reflex and his knee hit the underside of the table. The goblet lost its balance and fell, with a sharp noise when the crystal hit against the edge of his plate, spreading the water over the food.  
  
The chaos attracted the attention of the entire crowd of guests. And he blushed violently.  
  
"I apologize, my Lord, for my total clumsiness." Delia came to his rescue, bowing deeply and hurriedly picked up the plate and the shattered goblet, leaving the hall after doing so. Another maid came immediately, cleaned the table and replaced his dishware.  
  
"What a mess!" Commented the Elf who was sitting at his side. "That maid is a total disaster, I do not know how Lord Elrond can let her attend his guests. If she was my servant, she would be in the kitchen, she does not have the correct appearance to."  
  
Legolas did not hear the last sentence, without an apology and in total haste, he stood from his seat and left the hall. He walked corridor after corridor, he went to the kitchens and to the bathing rooms. She was nowhere to be found and he lost his hopes after some time.  
  
The full moon was rising in the horizon. Legolas was looking outside the window of his room, the sound of the music came from the Hall of Fire. The Fellowship would depart in the morning, neither their fate was sure, nor their return. This was the last of his fears, he had offered his protection to the Ring Bearer freely, and would sacrifice his life without blinking an eye if it was required. He was well known because he was brave and had a spirit of fire. But the grief for what he had done to Delia was torturing his mind and soul. True, he had not asked for her help, but he had said nothing to apologize himself. A soft knock on the door brought him back from his thoughts. 'Maybe it is she' he thought and hopefully opened the gate. To his disappointment, the handmaid that was standing in front of him was one of the other ones he had seen at the banquet. Something was totally out of place, though, she was not wearing the servant clothes they regularly used. The she Elf was dressed with a blue dress made of thin silk, and evidently was not wearing anything else under it.  
  
"Can I help you?" he said dryly, raising one of his eyebrows.  
  
"My Lord Elrond told me that maybe you would want some company this night, before you leave to."  
  
"No, thank you." He replied, his face red with fury. It was a custom to provide female company for the Elven warriors of high status. But he had never gotten used to that tradition. If he needed company, he surely knew how to find it, without help. Suddenly, an idea came to his mind. "Do you know where Delia is, the maid that has been attending me these last days?"  
  
"Yes, my Lord, she ran away after the incident with your goblet." She giggled softly, but abruptly shut up when she noticed the deadly glare that Legolas was giving her.  
  
"Ran away, where?"  
  
"Well, I suppose she went to the glades, beside the pond of the Fairy. It is her favorite place, she goes there quite often. My Lord, she is a weird Elf, but Lord Elrond has her here because she is quite skilled and obedient. After tonight I am not so sure, perhaps he will send her away. " The she-Elf smiled, a strange gesture of satisfaction crossing her features.  
  
"Where is this pond you told me about?"  
  
"Not very far, maybe half mile to the west. If you want, I can send someone to look for her."  
  
"No, I can find her. Now, go. somewhere else."  
  
"But, my Lord, if I do not accomplish my mission, I will be punished." She fluttered her blond eyelashes and looked at him, her eyes dark with lust.  
  
"Which is your mission?"  
  
"I am supposed to bring joy and pleasure to one of the warriors of the Fellowship. I chose you because my rank is higher among the servants." She smiled and flushed.  
  
"Did somebody choose to please Gimli son of Gloin?"  
  
"No, my Lord, of course not!" she replied, scandalized and with a look of horror on her beautiful face.  
  
"Well, it is my right to offer a gift to my companions, so, I order you to go and please him."  
  
"But, but, my Lord."  
  
"Are you deaf?"  
  
"As you wish, my Lord."  
  
It was not difficult to find her. He was an expert hunter, and after an hour, her tracks had led him right to the pond of the Fairy. It was a dreamy place, one of the many springs that flowed to the main course of the Bruinen had formed a little pool of clear waters. It was surrounded by glades of soft grass, and the waters from the fount fell to the pond from a crack in the stones, producing musical notes.  
  
He was looking in wonder at the entire place, when he saw her. He tried to hide, but there was no proper place to do it.  
  
Though, it looked like she was not going to discover him, or anything else that surrounded her. She had her eyes closed, and was dancing, her bare feet softly touching the velvet green of the glade, her lithe body bending in beautiful, perfect arcs, then spinning on one foot, or swaying slowly from side to side.  
  
He walked as quietly as he could, which was almost soundless, given his skills. And when he was less than five feet from her, he called her.  
  
She halted her dancing and froze in place. Her eyes opened wide.  
  
"My Lord." she said and bowed deeply.  
  
"Why did you stop?"  
  
"I.this maybe looks odd, I mean, there is no music, and I am dancing."  
  
"No it is not odd, uncommon yes, but not odd. The sound of the water and the whistle of the wind is the oldest kind of music. The first Elves surely danced to the rhythm of nature before they made the first pipes and drums. Besides, Delia, you really are a good dancer. I wonder why you are not dancing with the others, at the Hall of Fire."  
  
She looked hurt by his comment. "I am not there, because I was not invited, My Lord."  
  
His face contorted in anger. "That is not fair!"  
  
Suddenly her expression was of total alarm, she hurriedly replied "I am not complaining, My Lord. Lord Elrond has been so kind and generous with me, he even let me stay when I had no family left in Imladris."  
  
He looked puzzled at her. How it was possible that she was taking her situation at Elrond's house so mildly? "Why are you so submissive?"  
  
"My Lord, do not be mistaken. It is not submission that you see, it is simple pride. I am proud to serve with swiftness and discreetness, and I can even dare to say you have not been better served before." Her face was filled with something totally new. Her expression was smug.  
  
"I admit it, Delia, you are the best in what you do. Though, I will feel even better attended if you accomplish a special task for me."  
  
"A special task, my Lord? What do you want from me?"  
  
"Dance for me again, under these stars. Give me the delight to see you moving to the rhythm of the streams and the wind. Let my mind be taken away from the pain and the closeness of war and death by the movements of your body."  
  
"As you wish, my Lord." She nodded. She closed her eyes and let the trickle of the water, the whistling wind and the nocturnal birds' sounds guide her movements. Those sounds, lulling her senses, making her body sway and bend, leap and arch, spin and lilt. She and the forest were in deep agreement.  
  
Legolas looked enthralled, for he had seen many dances in his long life, but had never seen something like this. She was in pure rapture, careless of her surroundings, her body was like a leaf carried away by a whirlwind. Though at the same time, there was an energetic surge in her movements, as though her limbs suddenly were possessed by the power of the water and the wind, by the nature that surrounded them.  
  
He could not stand it anymore, his body moved against his will, and suddenly found himself dancing as well. His arms surrounded her waist, and hers wrapped around his neck. Shortly, the dance ended, when his lips met hers in a passionate kiss.  
  
The aurora found Legolas laying on a bed of grass and pine needles, his head cradled in Delia's arms. His eyes were open, though he was in deep reverie. When the sunshine bathed his face, his eyelashes fluttered and he woke up. He kept still some seconds, feeling the comfortable warmth of his new lover against his naked body. But he had to go. He shifted into a sitting position and looked at her.  
  
She was in reverie, a clear smile of satisfaction in her lips.  
  
Legolas smirked smugly, he had placed that smile on her face. The memories of the moments of intimacy they shared brought a flush to his face. It had been her first time, she gave him the gift of her innocence and he took it with great care and passion. He guided her into the ways of love and was highly rewarded when she responded with natural skills. She was meant to belong to him.  
  
"Delia, meleth-nin, wake up," he whispered and softly kissed her lips. The honey of those lovely lips had intoxicated him the whole night, but he just couldn't get enough of them.  
  
"It is morning already, my L., Legolas?" She could not suppress a sudden blush, the formalities had been broken, but she could not get used to the idea.  
  
"Yes, Delia, it is morning. I am afraid that I have to go now, for my fellows await me." A dark shadow eclipsed his fair face.  
  
The same shadow appeared on the she-Elf's features.  
  
"Do not worry, meleth-nin, I would come back to you after this quest ends, and I will honor our vows." Legolas promised.  
  
"My heart will go with you, Legolas, and I will wait for your safe return. Though there is no need to give me such an honor, because I know very well where my place is. I feel happy enough with the night we shared, I should not ask you more than that."  
  
"Ai, my dear, but I would ask you, you will see!" He kissed her, deeply and almost regretted his decision of joining the Fellowship. Though he had given his promise and his word was worth gold.  
  
The Fellowship was ready to leave Imladris, and Legolas inhaled deeply a last gust of the clear and pure air. Maybe a long time would pass before his senses would again rejoice in the delights that Imladris offered him. Though he planned to return, alive and in one piece, he felt his survival was even more important now. now that he had someone awaiting for him.  
  
He looked at his companions, all looked relaxed and jubilant. Even Gandalf was showing a special spark in his eyes. And it was most amusing to see the perplexed faces of Pippin and Sam, surely they were virgins until last night. He was sure the Elven maids had fulfilled all of their needs and left them sated as well. Such maids had been trained and he knew it. But what he had shared with his Delia, he would not trade it for anything.  
  
"Lord Gimli, Lord Gimli!" a beautiful voice called from the highest balcony.  
  
All the companions looked up and Legolas blinked in disbelief when he noticed the voice belonged to the she-Elf that came to his room the night before.  
  
The female let a piece of fabric fall from above, and it came floating down in the breeze. It landed at Gimli's feet, he bent down and picked it up. It was a handkerchief of silk, finely embroidered with gold and silver.  
  
"May the Valar protect you, my brave Dwarf," she called out, and blew a kiss at Gimli.  
  
The Dwarf was quite red under all his beard and hair, and he looked mortified at his companions. "That lass is surely crazy, she presented herself in my room last night wearing almost nothing."  
  
"And what did you do, 'my brave Dwarf'?" mocked Gandalf.  
  
"The same you did with that brunette Elf I saw entering your room, dirty old man!"  
  
At this remark Gandalf's face was covered with the same shade of red Gimli was wearing.  
  
From far away, Delia watched their departure and sighed deeply. Her heart beat with hope, yet her face was stained with tears of fear.  
  
"The Valar protect you, my Lord, wherever you go, my heart will go as well," she muttered .  
  
TBC 


	2. chapter 2

Title: Elven commitment chapter 2/2  
  
Author: Warlady  
  
Fandom: Tolkien  
  
Rating: PG-14  
  
Disclaimer: All the characters from The Lord of the Ring, belongs to Tolkien Estate. Special Warnings: Some allusions to violent death, sex implied not graphic.  
  
Beta: Mayetra  
  
Timeline: During the events from The Two Towers and after The Return of the King. Archive: The Tortured Scribes' group board. Spoilers: None. Author's Note: Since I got a single review asking for more, and because my muse was pocking me with his magic wand I decided to write a second and final chapter to this little fanfiction. Don't forget to review if you like it, and flame me if you please, at least I would know you read it =^_^=  
  
As the battle in Helm's Deep ended, Legolas walked among the spoils to help the Elves that had survived in the search of fallen companions. They had little time before their departure towards Isengard, but the Elven people would not leave their dead ones at the mercy of the vultures.  
  
His serene face was gloomy, as he saw many of his peoples' corpses scattered all over the mud. It was terrible to notice that some of them had their eyes open, as if they were in reverie. From time to time, he had to breath in deep to avoid shedding tears, at the vision of beautiful Elves mutilated beyond recognition.  
  
"You, Elf, there is one of yours alive here!" a Rohirrim warrior called to him.  
  
Legolas jogged swiftly through the field and arrived in time to see how the survivor was taken from under a pile of bodies. The Elven warrior face was covered with mud and blood. His eyes were closed, though he was breathing, he had passed out. The chest plate of his armor was broken. Obviously, the hit to his chest had made him faint in pain.  
  
Legolas took the frail body in his arms and carried him towards the fortress. He arrived at the hall designated to the wounded ones and deposited the Elf on a blanket placed on the floor. He took off the Elf's helmet and suddenly noticed the color of the hair was very familiar to him. He cleaned the face with water and gasped with the realization. This was not a warrior, this was Delia, his Delia. Breathing hard in anxiety, he removed the armor and hurriedly opened the tunic and the shirt that covered her chest. He found a dark bruise on her sternum, and gently touching the bone he verified that nothing was broken.  
  
Delia moaned and stirred, his eyelashes fluttered and his eyes fixed on Legolas. "Meleth-nin," she whispered.  
  
"Hush, Delia, you are hurt and need to rest." He leaned towards her and planted a chaste kiss on her lips.  
  
"Do not worry, I am fine. There are many others that need help, go with them. I will take care of myself," she said trying to sit. Her face contorted in pain.  
  
"No, I will attend you. Now, stay here and do not dare to move. I will find a better accommodation for you."  
  
"But."  
  
"No more words for now, hush and stay still. I will be back in a minute."  
  
Legolas rushed through the corridors, looking for Lady Eowyn. If there was someone who could help him to find a more private place to take care of his beloved, that was Èowyn. He finally found her, among other women, helping them to attend the hurt soldiers of higher rank.  
  
"My Lady, may I have a word with you?"  
  
She looked questioningly at him. Until now, the Elven prince had not directly addressed her. He acted towards her and the other Rohirrim people like most of the Elves were supposed to be, reserved and a little too cold. Though she noticed he had a peculiar gleam in his eyes. She stopped her task and came closer to him. "What do you need?" she said, keeping a formal expression in her features.  
  
"I need a room for attend one of the Elven warriors."  
  
"A room?" she was perplexed. How could he be asking for something like that, when her own people, even the most dignified warriors were accommodated on the floor? "May I ask why you are asking for such a thing? Do you think your warriors are better than mine to deserve a room for their own when all these Rohirrim soldiers are laying on little less than the bare floor?" She was cutting, but she didn't lose her regal demeanor in the least.  
  
"Nay, my Lady, but this soldier happens to be very special. She is my betrothed."  
  
Eowyn's eyes widened in surprise. "Your betrothed? A female? I didn't know your women were permitted to fight among your males," she said this more for herself than for him. "Well, that is different. I will see what can I do for you."  
  
"Thank you, my Lady." He bowed at her and left.  
  
****  
  
Éowin and a handmaid arranged a small room close to the armory, which had served to accommodate a soldier who guarded the entrance to it. This soldier had died during the battle, so the chamber was empty.  
  
Delia was resting on a mattress, she fell quickly into reverie. The handmaid changed her into one of Éowin's nightgowns and one of the healers checked her wound.  
  
"The healer says she is fine. Nothing is broken and there isn't internal bleeding," Éowin informed Legolas.  
  
"Thank you, my Lady, how could I repay you?" Legolas bowed at her, his expression filled with sincere gratitude.  
  
"Love her, my Lord, that is all that I ask from you. Love this brave female that didn't hesitate to hold a sword to defend this fortress. Give her your devotion and honor your love. But never, ever, cage her, that would be like killing her spirit." Éowin's eyes were filled with fire and determination. It was like Delia was a reflection of herself, or so she felt.  
  
"I will do as you say, my Lady. I will make her my wife, but I swear to you she will be free as a bird. Though I think she had enough battle for now, I will not let her hold a bow or a sword for a while, until she is properly cured."  
  
"It sounds fair to me, she can rest here and await for your return from Isengard"  
  
*****  
  
Legolas stayed all night at Delia's side, looking at her eyes and the soft raise and fall of her chest. He didn't notice the moment when he slipped into reverie.  
  
At some hour before the raising of the sun he woke up and realized, with a jolt of fear, that she had left. He exited the room in haste, but before he could go further, Gandalf crossed his way.  
  
"Are you looking for your betrothed?" asked the Wizard.  
  
"Yes, I. how did you know she is my."  
  
"Éowin told me. Don't worry, your beloved is outside, atop one of the towers. She has been watching the stars."  
  
Legolas thanked Gandalf and left. As he exited the building, he noticed the silhouette of Delia outlined by the raising sun. She was standing, immobile, her eyes watching the east. He walked towards her and stood at her side.  
  
"You are a stubborn female."  
  
"I had to see the stars." She turned around and smiled at him.  
  
"But you are."  
  
"Shh, listen."  
  
From far away, the cry of a hawk repeated again and again. No mortal could hear it, but Elven ears could.  
  
"It is only a hawk," Legolas said, embracing Delia's waist and nudging her neck with his nose.  
  
"Isengard has fallen," she said as in trance, "the hawk is announcing the fall of Saruman's fortress."  
  
Legolas watched her in awe. To be true, the Elves sometimes could interpret the animal languages, but never to the grade of knowing what a sound so distant and blurred could mean.  
  
"How can you say that?"  
  
"I have gifted hearing, my love. I can understand clearly what birds and beasts say. That is how I knew you were here. News travel fast among the winged folk. When Lord Elrond requested the Elves join this battle, I did not hesitate and volunteered to come at your side."  
  
"That was very brave of you. But I would prefer you to stay safe in Imladris."  
  
"I would prefer it too, but every minute without you were like living in abysm." She sighed, leaning to him. His warm body felt like paradise to her.  
  
"I admit I feel the same. Though now I have to leave again, and have to ask you to stay and wait for me. At least, stay until you are strong enough to join us in battle." He was not going to deny her the right to hold a sword again, because he had promised it to Lady Éowin. But his heart was suffering with the notion of his beloved one involved in such a danger.  
  
"I will not hold a sword again, nor a bow either. I have had enough killing. Maybe I am a coward in your eyes, Legolas, but I could not stand killing another living being again. I know the ones that died under my blade and my arrows were Orcs, but they breathed, screamed and bled. Every slash to them was like a thorn in my heart. Even as I knew that they would not doubt for a second to kill me, it made it no easier. I know that it sounds strange to you, but I could see fear and sadness in their yellow eyes, every time one of them died by my hand." She turned in his arms to face him, a single tear rolling down her face.  
  
Legolas looked at her. For some strange reason, he felt that he had never seen her at all. It was like something had unveiled suddenly. What ever it was, he could feel a strange energy pulsing through her fragile form. "I would not ask you to do it again, meleth-nin, you will never raise your hand to kill. That I promise. I will return to you in no time. But I have to ask you something important."  
  
"Ask me what ever you want, my love."  
  
"Will you bond to me, before I go into battle again?"  
  
"Nothing could make me more joyful," she said, her face suddenly glowing in happiness; but, a shadow covered her eyes, "But we do not have your father's blessing."  
  
"I know it, but even if Elbereth come from Aman right now and told me I should not join to you, I would disobey her command."  
  
She gasped in fear, "that is a blasphemy, Legolas!"  
  
He laughed, and embraced her tightly to his chest. "Nay, meleth-nin, a blasphemy was not bonding to you back at Imladris."  
  
*****  
  
While they rode to Isengard, Legolas was glowing; tiredness, hunger and battle forgotten. He looked at his wrist, where a white scarf was tied, the sign of his bond with Delia. She had nothing else to give him in symbol of their marriage, and he didn't care. The soft piece of fabric was as precious to him as it was one of the Silmarils.  
  
They said their marriage vows before Gandalf, and Legolas gave to Delia one of his arrows in exchange for her scarf. A poor symbol, but he planned to correct this once they arrive at Mirkwood. He was still planing how to announce the news to his father. Though it didn't trouble him.much.  
  
"Master Elf, I have never seen you so happy. It seems that lass truly has your heart. A brave girl that one, to come in search of you, even in such a risky situation." Gimli was saying.  
  
"My Delia. Truly mine at last. I can not imagine a better gift." Legolas was telling this more to himself than to Gimli.  
  
"Now you have a good reason to keep you head joined to your neck," said Aragorn, amused to see the wide smile drawn on Legolas' usually severe features.  
  
"Aye, I plan to return to her in one piece." He was saying this when the vision of Isengard, or what was left of it, appeared before them. The Elf looked in surprise. "She was telling the truth!" he whispered.  
  
*****  
  
To Legolas surprise, his father took the news quite well, to say the least.  
  
In fact, the Elven King was delighted. Not to mention, he was not so delighted when he noticed that his son was a close friend with Gimli. But the notice of Delia being his daughter-in-law had a beneficial effect on his mood.  
  
Legolas was puzzled. He expected real harshness, and even feared an offensive scene from Thranduil. The Elven Prince had his reasons to assume this, of course.  
  
Thranduil used to instruct him really specifically about the kind of female he wanted for him. Refined, beautiful, intelligent yet obedient and high- breed.  
  
The high-breed part was what kept Legolas worried. She was daughter of a handmaid. and the Valar knew who her father was. Though the thing that triggered his alarm was the King's announce of a celebration to honor their bonds in the Elven way.  
  
Was his father planning something against Delia? Was he going to spit his insults to her in the middle of the ceremony? Legolas feared the worst, so, a couple of days before the celebration he walked in Thranduil's studio, his heart somewhere between his stomach and his knees. Even though Legolas was a grown up Elf, had been through war and had seen a Balrog up close, his father still scared him, as if he still was a young Elfling caught doing a prank.  
  
Thranduil's desk was covered with documents, his head was bowed, reading carefully a specific piece of parchment. He didn't stop reading. "Legolas, come inside and take a sit. I will be with you in a minute." He obviously knew his son had entered his office.  
  
Legolas obeyed, his stomach suddenly threatening to flip over. He looked at the expression on his father's face and an abrupt desire to stand up and run nested in his guts.  
  
Though it was too late, Thranduil lifted his head and looked at him. "Ah, Lord Elrond wrote to make his excuses. He would not attend your wedding, he is so busy preparing for his daughter's wedding with the King of Gondor." Thranduil face clearly showed his discontent. "Oh, at least he says it is that. I assume he would came out with another explanation if he had not this one so at hand."  
  
Legolas just nodded, his tongue suddenly reluctant to move at all.  
  
"I cannot imagine how he permits such an abomination. Arwen, the most beautiful Elf in Middle Earth, the very image of Luthien, married to a Man."  
  
Legolas gulped. Yes, his father had always tried to obtain an alliance with Lord Elrond and Lady Galadriel. Such a pact would only could be possible if he, the Prince of Eryn Lasgalen, joined in marriage with Arwen.  
  
When the news of the strong love that joined Arwen and Aragon's hearts spread, fast as fire in a store of fireworks, through the Elven realms, Thranduil almost fainted.  
  
Though, Legolas sighed in relief. He always thought that Arwen was beautiful as a star. but he found her strange and ethereal demeanor totally unpleasant. To talk to her was like talking to a living statue. Her coldness unnerved him. On the other hand, Delia, his Delia, was real, as warm as a summer morning and as beautiful as a new leaf. She was just perfection to his eyes, used to measure richness by the endless display of splendor that nature could give to the senses. Her gracious dance back at Imladris had gained his heart. Her movements was the eternal dance of life, her body was one with the earth the wind and the water. The inner fire of her spirit was a calm flame that turned in a smoldering blaze in the moment of their bodies' first joining. Loving her was like loving the nature itself. A perfect communion with the spirit of Arda.  
  
"Legolas, are you listening to me?" Thranduil looked at his son in puzzlement.  
  
Legolas came back from his reverie with a start. It was now or never. Encouraged by the vision of his beloved still fresh in his mind he was ready to face the wrath of his father. "Father, I need to know it. What is the meaning of this celebration you are preparing?"  
  
"The meaning? To confirm your union with Delia before the eyes of our people, of course." His voice was calm and firm. It showed no hint of deceit of any kind.  
  
Legolas was scandalized. Was it possible his father could lie so smoothly as to not display his true intentions with the subtle quiver in his voice or demeanor? He tried to stay composed, it was useless to start up an argument so soon. "But, you know her mother was a servant, and her father." He didn't dare to continue, it was bad enough that nobody knew who her father was. If he voiced out his suspicious about the "race" of Delia's father, Thranduil will surely kick him out of the palace, and the fate of his wife would be even worse.  
  
"Oh, I see, you are afraid I did not remember to invite her father? I did it, do not worry, Legolas. It was quite difficult to find him, but finally, he received his invitation, and he sent word to me just yesterday. So, be calm, he will be here to see her daughter become your wife in the Elven ceremony."  
  
Legolas was surprised beyond words, literally, because he felt his throat contracted as to say something, though no sound came out. After some minutes of mute deliberation he managed to speak. "Do you know who her father is?"  
  
"But of course, you know him too, but not so well as I." Suddenly, Thranduil's face lit up as he remembered something. "Forgive me, son, I forgot that not even Delia knows him. How silly of me, I assumed you had this information. Then, our little celebration will not only be a party for you two, it seems she will meet at last her roots."  
  
"Who is he?" Legolas asked in haste. This mysterious person could not be an Orc, Thranduil would not be so calmed.  
  
"Nay, Legolas, my son, I will not tell you. You will be eager to say it to your wife and the surprise will be ruined."  
  
"But."  
  
"Enough, now leave me, I have a ton of things to do."  
  
"But."  
  
"Well, are you still here?" Thranduil fixed his blue eyes on him, raising up an elegant eyebrow that was the mark of his patience growing thin.  
  
Legolas understood and left the chamber.  
  
*****  
  
Delia was in the stables, brushing slowly the soft skin of the mare his father-in-law had gave her. She was saying some soft words in Elvish to the beast.  
  
The snow white mare neighed softly as in response to her words.  
  
"You know what she says to you?" asked Legolas, who had entered minutes ago and was watching intently the scene.  
  
"She says that she like the way I brush her hair. She complained about the lackeys, they don't pay real attention to their tasks." Delia said this smiling widely at Legolas.  
  
He walked towards Delia and swiftly encircled her waist from behind, hiding his face in her hair. He inhaled deeply. She smelled to open fields and morning dew, flowers, rain, and autumn wind. "I do not blame her, Delia, your hands are magical when it comes to combs and braids. Though, they are magical in many, many other ways. I can say it, my skin still yearns for your touch."  
  
She giggled, a shade of pink coloring her face. "You are hopeless, Legolas. Remember, we could be wife and husband, but still, we need your father's blessing." She struggled, far too weekly, because her body didn't want to be freed from the prison of his arms.  
  
"Oh, come on, meleth-nin, do not starve your husband of your love. Or do you want me to kneel and beg for your favor?" He fell to his knees and embraced her hips, planting a chaste kiss on her stomach. "Please?"  
  
"Legolas, do not give me that look, you know you melt me when you look at me like that."  
  
And so she melted, under his caresses and kisses. They made love once again, on a heap of fresh hay.  
  
Legolas felt more alive and secure when she shared his body with him. Only then could he forget the worries that were plaguing his mind, the upcoming Elven wedding, the final meeting with her father. He could get lost in her eyes for hours, feeling that sensation of pure heaven, when she finally reached her peak in his arms, and moaned so softly, yet so deeply, as to make him realize she was his forever.  
  
*****  
  
So, the day came. The palace was glowing with the ornaments made by the Dwarves from Lonely Mountain. Thranduil had not mull over the high payment he had to give to have his halls covered in all the fine silver lamps and chandeliers. The walls were garlanded as well, with thousands of fresh white flowers.  
  
Legolas was in the main Hall, looking in wonder at all this magnificence, dressed already in his most fine attire. His lean body looked regal in the white and silver robes. Though, he felt a little foolish using clothes so elaborate, and his golden head, crowned with a garland of silver leaves and golden berries made him felt even more uneasy.  
  
"Master Elf, are you under all this finery?" asked Gimli, amused.  
  
The Elf had been so deep in thoughts that the Dwarf's presence passed unnoticed till now. "So it seems, though I barely can say I feel like myself wearing this. I am afraid I would trip up on the hem and fall on my face."  
  
"Oh, you will do well, Legolas. Are you nervous?"  
  
"You do not have an idea, Gimli. I feel like a thousand butterflies are dancing inside my stomach."  
  
"Lad, you are only going to speak your vows before your people, the real marriage was back at Helm's Deep. Though, I dare to say, you had your honeymoon back at Elrond's House." Gimli chuckled, giving a soft nudge with his fist to Legolas' arm.  
  
Legolas blushed in shame. "Well, I. Wait a minute, how can you be so sure?"  
  
"Oh, the cute blonde she-Elf you sent to me was quite talkative. After a couple of words from my part she sang the whole story about you looking in the glades for your dear Delia."  
  
"I see, that impish Elf. And just after that I imagine you made her sing a very different tune." Legolas narrowed his eyes in a very significant way.  
  
"More like scream. I swear all Imladris heard her. Noisy creature." It was Gimli's turn to blush to the roots of his hair.  
  
Legolas laughed and this eased a little of his nervousness.  
  
*****  
  
There he was standing in front of his father, the hall full of guests and his nerves tangled in knots. Thranduil informed him that Delia's father had arrived and was introducing himself to her. At any moment, his wife would enter the hall on the arm of her father.  
  
The King, in his vast wisdom, had kept Delia's father identity secret from him. So Legolas anxiety had only increased even more. Was her father a Man? No, it was not possible, Delia was too old for her father to be alive if he was a Man. An Elf? No, in that case, probably he would know, news traveled fast among Elven kin. An Orc? Of course not, his father was not wicked enough as to permit himself such a horrid joke. The march that announced his wife's entrance to the hall made him almost jump out his skin. His jaw dropped, there, in the entrance hall was Delia.  
  
She was wearing a vaporous and regal gown. Her elfin frame was resplendent among the silk and the gauze, her hair had been arranged neatly, with little braids at her temples, and a garland of white flowers crowned her head.  
  
After regaining his composure, he had to blink several times to be sure he was not looking a mirage. Because, holding his wife's arm, was the unmistakable figure of one of the Istari. He didn't know him very well, as his father had told him, but the brown robe was a sign that this wizard was Radagast.  
  
The wizard walked beside Delia, and lead their path towards the astonished Elf. As he arrived next to Legolas the old man smiled and joined Delia's hand with Legolas'. "I give you my daughter, Legolas Thranduilion, make her very happy."  
  
Legolas was as in a daze. He barely could hear his father's words. Even his own vows were said in such a state and he could barely discern what he was saying. When it was Delia's turn to speak her vows, he came back from his contemplation and listened carefully.  
  
"I promise that I will bond my life to yours, to be as one, for all eternity and beyond. May the Valar bless our union and give us the joy of being together forever. I will be with you in happiness and in sadness, in your time of enjoyment and in your hour of sorrow. Because I love you, Legolas."  
  
"Now I bless your union, my children, and before all the guests and under the eyes of the Valar, I declare you husband and wife."  
  
They exchanged rings of gold as a proof of their union, and finally kissed. A kiss between a wife and a husband, before the law of the Elves.  
  
*****  
  
"Father, why you did not tell me?"  
  
"Ai, Legolas, I could not ruin the surprise. How could I miss the chance to see your face when you finally knew your father-in-law's identity?"  
  
"How did you know it? Not even Delia knew it."  
  
"It is a long story. But better let your wife tell you. After all, you do not want to pass your time with your old father when you have a lovely wife expecting you to take her away." Thranduil grinned wickedly and raised his eyebrow.  
  
Legolas blushed and nodded, looking at Delia, who was dancing with  
Radagast. He walked towards them. Softly touching Radsgast's shoulder, he waited until they halted in the dance. "Should I ask you to let me dance with this beautiful lady?"  
  
"But of course, lad," the wizard smiled widely and made a bow to him.  
  
Legolas took her wife in arms and started to dance. "I hope you do not mind I interrupted your time with your father."  
  
"No, my dear, I do not mind. Truly, there are a lot of things I want to talk with him about, but there will be another time to do it. This night belongs to us, you and I." She rested her head against his chest and followed his lead in the dancing.  
  
He felt her so close, finally as he had imagined through all his long journey, through the terrible battles, but now, the curiosity was killing him. He wanted to know more about her father. "Delia, could I ask you for a walk in the inner gardens?" He asked, stopping and offering her his arm.  
  
"Yes, my love." She took his arm and walked with him out the Hall.  
  
They walked through corridors until they arrived at the archway that lead to the inner gardens.  
  
She loved this place, and Legolas knew it. Delia had discovered it on her first day at the castle and passed much of her time here.  
  
"Honestly, Legolas, I was feeling a little anxious surrounded by so many people," she confessed, while she took off her slippers and put her bare feet on the soft grass.  
  
"I thought so, but you have to get used to it. You are a princess now, and with your new privileges comes a load of new responsibilities."  
  
"King Thranduil told me that, already," she smiled, and sit on a marble bench.  
  
"Sorry, my dear, it seems I am getting old, I am starting to sound like my father." He laughed softly and sat by her side.  
  
"You want to know about my father, don't you?" She took his face in her hands and looked intently into his blue eyes.  
  
"You know me so well."  
  
"Just enough to see you are curious. I told you once, curiosity was one of the most valuable virtues among Elves. Well, it is not a long story. He knew my mother and fell in love with her, but the Valar's plan about Istari was very clear. So even when he wanted to join to her in marriage, he had to follow his mission. She offered her love to him in Imladris, like I did with you, and then saw him go away, keeping their union secret. But after that, the Orcs abducted her and Lady Celebrian; the rest of the story, you know it quite well."  
  
"But, why he never returned to claim his rights as parent. It would have save you from much pain and doubts." Legolas was furious.  
  
"It was not the Valar's design, my love. The Istari were bound to their destiny, and even though he kept surveillance over me from the shadows, he could not tell of this secret aloud. Only the high Elven Lords and Lady knew about it, your father among them, Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn."  
  
"You were a mere servant in Elrond's house, Delia, how could he let it be like that? You are the daughter of a Maia. Even Arwen do not have the magical blood that runs in your veins, not as much as you, anyway (*)"  
  
"I was a servant in Imladris, Legolas, that is true. But I never felt shame for that, it kept me sane and safe. Do you remember Luthien, the half Maia? She was a powerful creature, she lured Morgoth himself and stole a Silmaril from his iron crown. Can you figure out what could happen if Saruman or even Sauron knew such creature like me existed? I do not know if I have such power in me, but they would no doubt try to take my life away. Besides, I feel no different from the others, I am just a she-Elf, and I want to be like that to your eyes."  
  
Legolas looked at her and noticed that she had Radagast's eyes.  
  
Radagast the simpleton, the weak, the beasts tamer. Such names were given to him, but Legolas realized that under the simple cover of the wizard, there was a great power. Indeed, the Istari was not as portentous as Saruman, or as incredibly powerful as Gandalf. But the strength of his magic ruled over something more basic and even more important. Living things, trees, plants, animals, the pure soul of Arda.  
  
No wonder his daughter was as strong as him in such things. She was undemanding, humble, even when she knew her eyes and ears could hear the song of the nature in a way nobody else could.  
  
"You are so silent, meleth-nin." She commented, placing her palm on his chest.  
  
"I was just thinking, my love, about our life together. You know, I plan to move on to Ithilien. My people would not stay long here, and there is a lot of to do in Gondor. I imagine the White City full of green gardens, where Elven flowers should bloom even when the Elves are not more in Middle Earth."  
  
"And the Trees, where the birds and little creatures will have place to make their homes. The big branches covered in flowers and fruits." Added Delia, as in trance. She moved her hand towards a blossom from a plant close to her feet and it stirred, opening as if the sun had touched it.  
  
"It seems I have some Maia's power after all," she winked to a surprised Legolas. _____________________________________________________________________  
  
The time of the departure was sad, but it held a sense of joy as well. The white ships had their veils unwrapped and they filled with the salty sea breeze. As the anchors were pulled up the vessels started to move towards the West.  
  
"Finally, my love, we will join to our kin in Aman." Legolas whispered in Delia's ear, stroking lovingly her swelling belly. The fruit of their love moved so slightly inside her womb as in response to his caress.  
  
"I hear them calling, in the song of the waves and the gulls, the wind carries their jolly voices," she said, softly, a single tear rolling down her pale cheek. "Though, I can hear another song as well, the living beings I am leaving behind, their farewell is so sad. They are afraid of the mortals, they want me to stay."  
  
"You will miss our former home, meleth-nin. But I know you will find more beautiful trees and flowers in the Undying Lands." He kissed away her tear. "We cannot linger here, even when part of me desires it too. This is not our place anymore, the age of the Edain is beginning and we must take our leave. Middle Earth will change so much and if we stay the pain of such change would send us to Mandos' Halls. "  
  
"Aye, I know the truth of your words. But I only hope when we are gone, the Edain will take care of them. Each tree, each flower, each little creature in Middle-Earth. I wish someday they can hear their song as I do, maybe then, when the changes cease, we could return." she reply, a hint of hope in her voice.  
  
"Yes, maybe then." he added, looking away from the East and fixing his eyes in the endless blue of the waves. He doubted greatly of this, the Edain had not much love for nature. Though his love for Delia made him save his believes for himself. Besides, the elders said that the hope was the last to die. Perhaps someday Men would learn to listen the song of Arda and the Elves could return to live with them. "  
  
The End.  
  
(*) As my dear friend Mayetra said, Arwen was a descendant of Luthien, who was the daughter of Thingol and Melian, the latter was a Maia. So, Arwen's heritage included Maia's blood, as well as Human and Elven. 


End file.
